Wildflower
by telegramsam
Summary: Bifur in Rivendell. He's a special bunny.


There are days when Bifur just doesn't_ understand _clothes, or the necessity thereof.

They itch, they make you sweat, and it's nice and warm here in this funny place with all these tall pointy-eared people running about, and the sun feels oh so_ lovely_ on his skin.

And the flowers! He's not sure he's ever seen so many any one place before, so many different colors and shapes, and they all smell delicious!

So he fills his hair and his beard with them and grabs handfuls to share around so everyone else can be happy too.

These tall pointy people don't seem to like them, though. He keeps trying to give them all a flower or two to nibble on, and they just make weird shouty or squeaky noises at him and jump on top of things or rush off while their faces turn red.

Bifur is just about to be very sad indeed as he flops down in the middle of the pavement, petals drooping and dropping about him, when a tall golden-haired pointy person walking past actually _approaches_ him, so softly that she seems to float over the ground.

He slowly reaches up from where he's seated and uncurls his little fingers to reveal one slightly wilted yellow flower, which she takes from him, smiling just ever so slightly as she slips it into her hair and then disappears around a corner.

Bifur smiles again and munches on another petal, wondering what's for supper.

ooooo

Bifur scratched at his collar. A buzzing began in his left ear, and he started shaking his head, sending his badger-patterned hair and beard whirling about his face.

"Cut that out, yer head's got enough problems without being rattled around!"

Bombur seemed upset about something. Why?

Bofur got up and crossed the porch from where he'd been sitting with Bombur and gripped Bifur by the shoulders, looking him up and down, for the millionth and a half time. His cousins had just chased him through half the grounds surrounding the huge house they were staying at, and tackled him to the ground. Bombur had sat on his chest while Bofur wrestled him back into his clothes.

That was nearly an hour ago but Bombur still seemed cross.

_Isn't my fault clothes are so itchy… probably shouldn't have bitten him though. That _was_ a bit rude._

Bofur started smoothing down his badger-hair and beard, straitening his braids out and tucking in hair that had come loose from them. He was always doing things like that, like it somehow mattered.

Bifur wondered when they were going to leave this place. Their leader, Thorin… he was off somewhere being Important, probably. His friends didn't seem to like their current home too much, except maybe the Halfling. Bifur liked it though, it had so many flowers. Bifur liked flowers. Bifur liked the Halfling too, because the Halfling liked flowers, and didn't fuss over him so much or act like he was stupid, or treat him like he wasn't there.

And somehow his brain felt less fluffy here. Probably because of the flowers. They're very nutritious.

Bifur pushed Bofur's hands away, finally. His cousins _did_ fuss so, and over such ridiculous things. Like clothes, and vegetables. Tired of the scrutiny, he walked away from his cousins' porch. Bofur's voice pursued him as turned the corner.

"Keep your bloody clothes on this time!"

He stopped at a nearby bench and took his boots and socks off out of spite, then continued walking down the pathway. They didn't make the Halfling wear shoes, so why should he? _Orcs_ wear shoes and look where it got them. The buzzing in his left ear started again and he rubbed at it until his ear grew warm, but the buzzing didn't go away.

He looked down a nearby stair. One of the tall pointy people was talking to the Halfling. He seemed to remember that it was one of the Important pointy people like the nice one who had liked his flowers.

His cousins and his friends didn't like the pointy people, didn't trust them. He knew there was some reason for it and he wasn't supposed to like them either, but he'd forgotten what for. Most of them didn't like his flowers this morning, but then, neither did his friends or his cousins, so that couldn't be it.

Bifur sat down again on the paving stones and looked out over the valley and the river. They were going back to the Mountain. Not the ones where they live, but the big one he could only barely remember in disconnected images. He knew he used to live there and so did his cousins, but now they don't live there anymore, but they were going to go back and live there again. Except there was a dragon living there. Bifur didn't think the dragon would like flowers, either.

Bifur almost wondered if his cousins would notice if he just stayed here when they left, but shook the thought out of his head. He couldn't let them go without him – they'd just get into some kind of trouble. He had to look out for them, after all. They'd get eaten up by some orc if he didn't watch over them. And he still had to find _the_ Orc and give him his axe-head back, with interest on the loan (maybe _the_ Orc would like a boar-spear in _his_ head).

A small bird landed in front of him and pecked at something in the grass. Bifur scratched in a pocket for some crumbs left over from the cram-bread that had recently been kept there, and slowly moved his hand out along the grass. A shadow moved over them, but the bird didn't seem to care. The sparrow pecked in the grass a while more, but eventually hopped up onto his fingers, finding the treat. Bifur lifted his hand, with the bird. It had white and reddish-brown streaks over its feathers, not unlike Bifur's black and white badger-streaks. Maybe they were cousins somehow. Maybe the bird liked flowers, too.

The shadow leaned further over him and the maybe-cousin bird took flight, having finished its crumbs anyway. Bifur leaned back, craning his head over to look up behind him. A pointy person, the Important one, in fact, was leaning over him, looking at him. His expression was peculiar; Bifur wasn't alarmed but it made him just a little uncomfortable.

Bifur scooted around a bit so he didn't have to turn his neck so awkwardly but didn't break eye contact (maybe it was a staring contest, after all, and he'd hate to lose – his cousins would never let him live it down).

Or maybe it wasn't a staring contest, because the pointy person stood again and glanced around briefly before looking at him again, though not so sharply this time.

"Given your cousins the slip again, master dwarf?"

Bifur blinked, finally, as his eyes were starting to water.

The Important pointy person leaned forward again and gently took hold of his face; long, thin fingers came to rest at his jaw and also behind his head, tilting his head slightly to the side.

The pointy person seemed to be interested his axe blade, and moved the fingers away from his badger-beard to press lightly at the skin around it and sigh to himself in an odd manner. Maybe he wanted it? Bifur didn't think he wanted to give it to him, though. He had to find _the_ Orc and give it back (with interest) after all.

The pointy person made another little disappointed sound and ran his hand over Bifur's head, pressing down the fluff of his badger-hair in a way that suddenly made him remember his mother, which startled him badly as he had not thought about his mother in a very long time and could not, at this moment, recall her face, even though he scrunched up his face and tried very hard. He frowned up at the pointy person.

"I'm afraid there's nothing I can do for you, either, master dwarf. Removing it would do more harm than leaving it at this point."

The pointy person looked down the path towards the balcony where Bifur's cousins sat and Bifur stood up, finally, and looked too. He hoped Bombur wasn't mad anymore and maybe Bofur had calmed down, too.

The pointy person followed a few steps behind him as Bifur made his way back, casting one last regretful glance at Bifur as the walkway divided and so did their paths. Bifur glanced back for a moment as well and wondered again why his cousins and friends were in such a hurry to leave.

Bofur rolled his eyes at him as he returned to them and for a moment Bifur couldn't figure out what his problem was, until he pointed at Bifur's feet. He'd left his shoes around the corner. Bombur huffed and walked off to retrieve them.

Bifur knew they had to go get their mountain back from the dragon (who most _definitely_ would not like flowers, Bifur decided), but he hoped maybe he could visit this place again sometime. He did rather like their flowers.


End file.
